Faster than a horse, smarter than Einstein

Somebody's about to take it all away, but we don't know who they are, and millions of women are getting pasta next week. It's all coming true, and you heard it here first...

Only MILFs need apply. Mothers’ Day is coming up and I checked out the ads to see what’s trending this year. So, based on the promotions I’m seeing, you’re in luck if you’re a mom who is 32 or younger, ridiculously hot, and have a four-year-old blond child who can afford to buy you a diamond pendant. For the rest of the moms, it’s macaroni art at best.

Finished already? I really don’t understand all the fuss about the Kentucky Derby. All those people prepping for months, showing up in fancy clothes, competing for the best cuisine, and then the main event is over in two minutes. Reminds me of my honeymoon.

Stop that…who? I know a bunch of successful guys who have this fear that is almost never front and center, but often buzzing in the background: Somehow, somebody is going to take it away. It’s almost never a specific somebody, but there is a sense of unease about success, that it is unearned or arbitrary and that it can disappear much more quickly than it arrived. I suspect I know even more people who are not as successful and have the same insecurity. That’s why it resonates when they’re told there are evil forces plotting to take away everything they have. If my successful friends can host that fear, how much more so for people who are less financially/socially/culturally secure?

Smarter than Alfred. When you really think about it, Einstein’s most famous formula is actually pretty stupid, or at least as basic as it gets. We can measure mass and we can measure the speed of light, so E is just whatever MCC is. That’s no smarter than my special formula: Happiness = Beer times pizza.

Are they commute-worthy? Speaking of formulas, we need a new calculation for declining an invitation when the time spent in transit is greater than the time spent at the actual event. I’m thinking one-to-one: two hours of transit for a two-hour movie or play or baseball game or summer festival; four hours for a wedding, bar mitzvah or any dinner with a really good cocktail hour. We’ll call it the commuter quotient and every host must accept it as a completely legitimate reason for rejection.

Pre-forgiving the bad debt. Two of the biggest tsunamis on my social feeds last month were from people arguing about taxpayer subsidies for a new stadium for the Chicago Bears and student loan forgiveness. Shockingly, and by “shocking,” I mean “right on cue,” many people in favor of throwing taxpayer dollars at billionaire club owners are violently opposed to writing off debts for graduates who will never know the luxury of two-ply tissue. Taxpayers have been screwed over and over by sports teams and large corporations that promise huge financial returns that never materialize from “taxpayer investments,” but it’s a lesson we’ll learn at about the same time Charlie Brown stops flailing at the football. 

Intentionally idle. Quite often, the hardest thing to do is nothing, to wait it out, to refrain from getting in the middle and adding new complications. Some problems have no solution, some situations simply require time for resolution, and sometimes, just maybe, all our help just makes things worse. Also, “forbearance” sounds much more selfless than “laziness.”

Pointed critique. I came back from a trip recently and I noticed that a quarter of my photos included people pointing at something. Mostly, it was the guides on our visit and I wanted the pictures to be a bit more dramatic, so I waited until they were gesturing before I took the shot. Someday, an archaeologist is going to look at my pictures and think we walked around all day pointing at things. It’s a lot like the selfies that will convince them we were always looking up and smiling, even though we appear to have had only one arm.

You really think somebody likes me! Secretly, I love it when they tell us to silence our cell phones at the start of the movie. It feels so good to be included among those who might actually receive a phone call one of these days.

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